


Exile in an Empty Land

by maguirenumber6



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 16:38:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20261200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maguirenumber6/pseuds/maguirenumber6
Summary: Shortly after leaving Rivendell, the newly-formed Fellowship of the Ring are travelling south when one of the Company makes an unusual discovery in the wilderness...(All characters and settings owned by the Tolkien Estate. It is their world, I’m just playing in it. Any similarity to other works of fan fiction are purely coincidental. I did search beforehand and found nothing similar to what I wanted to do. Please let me know about any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors so they can be corrected. Thank you.)





	Exile in an Empty Land

The Elves of the household of Elrond Halfelven watched in silence as the Company of the Ring at last departed the Last Homely House, and took the southward road into the wilderness. Elrond and his daughter Arwen watched until they passed from sight, then turning away, began to walk slowly back towards the house. Elrond suddenly sighed, and Arwen looked at him kindly. 

"Do not be troubled, ada. They could not have prepared any better for this journey, and Frodo has strong and skilled companions and loyal friends to keep him safe. And it does no harm to send a Wizard on a dangerous quest," she smiled, gently placing her hand on his arm.

"I know, Arwen," replied Elrond, "but it was another thought that troubled me just then. I wondered, whether in all that empty land in which they now must walk, if by chance, they might meet...him. You know of whom I speak."

"It is beyond my knowledge to say. I know you have often ridden out from here to search for him, and have yet found no sign. You are still sure that he lives?"

"Somehow, I know that I would feel it in my heart if it were otherwise. Maybe, after all this time, he has finally forgiven himself, and wants to end his exile. At least, that is my hope. I wish I could find him, and tell him that he is welcome in my house - indeed, none more so. I am sure he would be pleased to know he is a grandfather too."

\- - - - -

As the Company walked, mile after mile through the quiet and empty land called Eregion, Gandalf the Grey was explaining to several of his Hobbit companions that many Elves once lived in this part of Middle-earth, and that they were famous craftsmen, before Sauron drove them out and destroyed their city. "But that was an Age and more ago," he told them sadly, "and there have been no Elves in Eregion for thousands of years, save for those who Elrond sends out on brief journeys. Indeed, I have known Elrond to come into these parts himself from time to time. The last occasion was several years ago, though, if I recall correctly."

"I remember Elrond coming here several times during my youth," said Aragorn, taking interest in the conversation turning to his foster father. "Ever since I learned how to ride, I asked to accompany him, but he always asked me to remain in Rivendell. He always said that he had to undertake that particular journey alone, and never spoke about where he had been when he came back."

"But why would Elrond come here, if there are no Elves in Eregion anymore?" asked Peregrine Took, ever the most curious of the four Hobbits who had undertaken this journey. "Is he looking for something?" 

"Or maybe someone, Pip," said Merry. "Or, maybe he knows some of the Rangers and goes out to look for them, and asks them for news."

"Great lords do not go out on journeys just to hear traveller's tales, Meriadoc. But," and now he peered at Merry and Pippin curiously, before glancing at Aragorn for a second - "your first guess is not far from the truth. He is looking for someone. Someone he has not seen for a very long time. Now, I do believe it is time for a short break from all this walking. Even I must rest my feet from time to time," he said happily, with a look of relief on his face as he sat down on a rock, and placed his staff on the ground. The others, nodding in agreement, placed their packs down, and searched for their water skins. All four of the Hobbits sat down near to Gandalf, to listen him continue his tale.

"Now then," the Wizard said, looking at them with a questioning eye. "How much do you know about Elrond?"

Sam Gamgee was the first to reply. "Well...not much sir, if I'm honest. Mister Frodo will know more. Old Mister Bilbo taught me my letters, as well as the odd thing or two about Elves and all, but I'm certain that Mister Frodo knows quite a bit more than me."

"Well thank you for putting me on the spot, Sam!" Frodo laughed, before thinking for a moment, before looking at Gandalf.

"Elrond is the lord of Rivendell. The elves call it Imladris in their tongue. He founded Imladris as a refuge for the Elves, but he welcomes all weary travellers - even Dwarves! Meaning no offence, Gimli," said Frodo, looking at the dwarf, who gave a small nod, before continuing. "I know that he was also the herald of Gil-galad in the War of the Last Alliance, and his father is Earendil, who now sails in the heavens and carries the last Silmaril with him."

"Quite right, Frodo. Earendil the Mariner, as he is called, is Elrond's father by birth. But Earendil and Elrond, with his brother Elros, were parted when they were only children. They were, in fact, raised by another, and love grew between them, after a time. So much so, that Elrond considers him as a father too. It is for this person that Elrond seeks, and he has done so for many years, without success."

"Gandalf...who is he?" Frodo asked. He was fascinated to learn so much about their host unexpectedly, but a feeling of concern crept into his heart, which confused him.

"His name is Maglor, Frodo. Maglor Feanorion."

At this, there was an audible gasp from Frodo. Legolas' eyes grew wide in shock, and Aragorn looked down sadly. Some of them evidently knew what that name meant. There was silence for a moment, and then Frodo spoke again, 

"Elrond was raised by one of the sons of Feanor? But Bilbo told me about them. Feanor and his sons did terrible things, even killing other Elves, all in the name of getting the Silmarils back from Morgoth. They swore an Oath, in front of...the Valar themselves, so Bilbo said."

"Indeed so, Frodo, but Maglor had a gentle heart compared to his brothers. He was far more like his mother than his father, and was known for being a poet and a singer. I do not believe he did all these things willingly, not wholly, and taking in Elrond and his brother, and raising them as his own, was perhaps an attempt to atone for his part in some of the terrible deeds done in that time."

"But if he raised Elrond, then where is he now? Why is he not in Rivendell, or even over the Sea?" asked Merry.

"The Oath, to regain the Silmarils, took a great toll upon Maglor and Maedhros, the only two brothers who still lived when Morgoth was finally defeated. The two Silmarils that were recovered were to be taken back across the sea, but the brothers crept into the camp where they were being guarded and stole them, and fled far away. But the pain and the guilt they could stand no longer, and the great jewels burned their hands when they touched them. Maedhros cast himself into a fiery chasm with one of the them, and that left only Maglor. It is said that he threw the last of the three Silmarils into the sea, and that he now wanders the lands of Middle-earth in exile, to pay for his sins."

"But surely he cannot still be around, can he? How do you know this Gandalf?" said Frodo again.

"During my own time in Middle-earth, I have walked and ridden far, and heard many tales. Some tales were too similar to be a coincidence. Stories of a sad song borne on the wind; the lament of a wandering minstrel with a strong, clear voice, heard but never seen. From the various threads I have collected, I have pulled together the tale I have just told you. When I told Elrond, he was not surprised, and it is his belief and mine that Maglor yet lives."

"But, as I am sure you know, we do not have time to look for him now. Who knows how long that would take? We have a a Quest of our own," said the Wizard, looking at Frodo, and leaning down, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think it's time we moved on," said he to the rest of the Company. "We should try and go a good deal further before making camp for the night."

Several days passed, and the land seemed to change little; large areas of short grassland that were largely featureless, save for small groups of weather-broken boulders or small patchs of open woodland. The land grew steeper and more craggy still as the Misty Mountains reared up impressively to their left. Sam remarked on how quiet the lands about seemed to be, and that only seemed to make it even quieter. There was another feeling too. Eregion seemed to be a land overcome with loneliness now. The Elves that were once there were long gone, and Eregion itself seemed to desire no-one else to dwell there now. Or was it a hint that there were being watched?

As the shadows began to lengthen, thoughts turned to making camp and a warm evening meal. They had been following the faint outline of a path that seemed to be taking them in the direction they wanted to go. Pippin spotted something a little off their course and smiled. "Look, Merry! There are some ruins there, a bit further down the slope. Can we go and look at them, Gandalf? They might make for an interesting campsite," said the hobbit, looking at the wizard hopefully. Gandalf stopped and looked himself at the subject of Pippin's enquiry, thinking for a moment. "They might well do, Pippin. But do not just go rushing off. This is not a Hobbit walking tour after all." 

He called for Legolas, who had been scouting ahead since they left the house of Elrond, as his Elvish eyes granted him sight far superior to that of his companions. He gave a brief smile, returned to the main group, and then accompanied Merry and Pippin down the slope, away from their path, and into a shallow valley. They approached the ruins of what could once have been a low house, or at the very least a large shed used for storage. There was no sign of a roof and the walls were partially collapsed. It did not look Elvish to the eyes of the hobbits. "It could almost be a farmer's out-building, like we see all over the Shire, Pip," said Merry. "Maybe some Men tried to come and live here once, though it doesn't look like they had much success."

As they walked towards what was left of the building, their Elvish companion had his eyes transfixed on the archway in the wall where once stood a door. Suddenly, Legolas spoke. "Wait here. I will go ahead and see if it's safe. I know this land seems empty, but we must be cautious. Keep your hands on your sword-hilts just in case." The hobbits heeded the words of their guide and halted, and watched as the Elf approached the ruined walls.

Legolas slowed as he approached the arch, and reached out to place his left hand against the stonework. It was worn smooth from many years of weathering, but he was suddenly able to feel something else. It was quite subtle to begin with, but the feeling increased as he made to walk through the archway. He suddenly withdrew his hand, before turning on the spot and returning to the hobbits far quicker than either of them expected.

"What's wrong, Legolas?" said Pippin, confused. "Why have you come back all of a sudden?" "What's happened?" Merry added. The Elf was silent for a moment. "There is something wrong. We must return to Mithrandir and the others. Something...unexpected has happened. Come. I will explain when we return to the rest of the group."

Several minutes later, Legolas and a confused pair of hobbits had returned back to the path where the others had been waiting, and talking about the path ahead. "Mithrandir!" called Legolas as they approached, the rest of the Company turning as he did so. "I have found something strange."

"What have you found?"

"As I passed through the doorway to explore the ruins, I...felt something. I think...I think there is a ward protecting the walls. I have never encountered such a thing before, though my father has mentioned them in the past. It...was like a song, but not in the way that I could hear music or a voice. It was more like a suggestion. I was not afraid, but I was implored to leave by a feeling in my heart."

"A song-ward? Of all the things I planned for on this journey of ours, I did not expect that! This is curious indeed."

Boromir stepped forward and spoke, a tone of concern in his voice. "Gandalf, what does he mean? It is magic? Has someone put a spell on the walls yonder? Is this whole valley being watched?"

"Peace, Boromir!" said the wizard, raising his hand. He turned to Legolas. "Did you feel the same as you approched the ruins, or just when you placed your hand upon the stone?"

"The latter. I felt nothing beforehand. It began very quietly and subtlely. Whoever placed the ward must have a mastery of the craft. Do you have any idea who could have done this?"

"I do not, my friend. It could not have been a wizard, that much is certain. Radagast lives on the other side of the mountains, and we are many miles from Isengard where Saruman dwells. Besides, we work our power in different ways. Wizards do not use song-wards. I believe it was an Elf who has done this. But who, and why? Come, my friends. Let us all go down the slope, and investigate this place together."

It was not long before the whole Company was standing before the ruined walls. Gimli strode forward and began to tap the walls in various places with his axe, and listening, half-expecting a tune to spring from the very stone. "I hear nothing" he said. "Walk through the archway, Gimli, and tell me what happens," replied the wizard. Gimli did as he was bidden, and stopped suddenly, just as Legolas did. "What in the world?" He turned suddenly and before he knew it, he had returned to the group. "I felt it, Gandalf. A sudden urge to turn back! Who could have done such a thing? And why? What do you think could be hidden in that building?"

"I do not know, Gimli. But I would very much like to find out. I do not think the ward is insurpassable. And," he said, thinking for a moment,"this place seems large enough that we could all sleep in it comfortably, and there is grass enough nearby for Sam's friend Bill to be comfortable too. Now, let me examine this ward more closely."

Gandalf himself now moved to stand within the archway, and placed his left hand on the wall. As he did so, he closed his eyes and concentrated as he became accustomed to the ward upon the walls. His brow creased in concentration for several moments, before a thin smile appeared on his old lips. He turned then himself, and returned to the waiting Company.

"Well. This is indeed old magic. Or song-craft to give it its right name. For as Legolas said, it is indeed a song. And I am certain that it was an Elf, for I heard words in the High Elven tongue as I myself listened just now. But that just adds to the mystery, for High Elven is not spoken in these lands, except in times of ceremony, and even then, by no more than a handful of Elves. Sindarin is the Elven-tongue which is heard in Middle-earth."

"High Elven speech. And a song-ward upon the walls. Gandalf, it could only have been one of the Noldor. But who? The Noldor have not walked in Eregion for centuries," said Aragorn.

"Who indeed, Aragorn. First, let me see if this ward will allow us to pass. I do believe if I speak words of friendship and peace, then the ward will be lowered and we can pass inside. Let me see."

The wizard returned to the wall, and placing his left hand again upon the wall, lifted his gnarled staff in his right hand, and began to chant, so quietly that only Legolas could hear him clearly. He repeated the incantation several times, then lowered his staff. A sudden chuckle was then heard, and Merry and Pippin exchanged hopeful glances.

"Come, my friends. I have countered the song with words of my own, and I believe I have been succesful. Let us pass inside and see what we can find."

He beckoned the others to follow him. Legolas and Aragorn strolled confidently though the archway, followed by Boromir, Gimli and the hobbits, albeit it less so. "Stay here Bill, there's a good lad," said Sam, producing an apple from his pocket for Bill to eat, before passing the walls himself, last of all. He walked slowly through the archway, still half-expecting something to suddenly make him turn tail and run all the way back to Elrond's house. Nothing happened, and in a few seconds he was with his companions, looking around inside what remained of the old building.

Sam could immidiately see that the ruins has been used as a camp site and a place to shelter, judging by the remains of a fire that the others had gathered around. Aragorn knelt down to examine the ashes. "This fire is well maintained, and was used recently. This morning, I would say. There is a small pile of firewood in the corner. With that, and the cooking equipment over there, I'd say whoever's been using this site has been here for some time," he remarked. "What do I always say? It is always useful to have a Ranger around, replied Gandalf, placing his hand on Aragorn's shoulder. The Dunedain nodded in response, and looked around the rest of the ruins, taking in every detail.

There were other signs around that suggested that it was in regular use, including some bedding in the corner, items of clothing and several packages, one fairly large and bound with leather. "What do you suppose this is, Mr. Frodo?" he asked, now kneeling himself to peer at the strange object. "Tis an odd shape, and the case was make special to fit it, or so it would seem. The leather looks very old." The others now turned to see what has taken Sam's attention.

"Do you think we should open it?" asked Pippin, with a slight hint of hesitation. "I mean, I know it's not ours, but it might give us a clue as to what's going on here." He looked towards Merry, and then to the others for guidance. "It could be a shield," suggested Gimli, "but shields are just slung on the back, not carried in a case." "Open it, but be careful. I do not think it's anything dangerous, but all the same, it does not belong to us, so take care with the straps," said Gandalf after a short pause. "As Pippin, said, we need to know who has been staying here, and why."

Slowly, Pippin loosened the straps and opened the case. "Merry, help me with this, would you?" he said, and together they lifted the object up, and turned around to show their companions. 

Several moments of silence passed whilst the Company tried to process what they had discovered.

"It's a harp, Merry."

"I know it's a harp, Pip. But what's a harp doing in the middle of nowhere?"

Gimli approached then to take a closer look. "Set it down lads, back on it's coverings. Careful, careful. That's it. Now, would you look at that?," said the dwarf, with a look of wonder on his bearded face. "I hardly expected to find a treasure such as this out here. Look at this craftsmanship! Gandalf, these inlays are mithril! It's elf-work, that's for sure. And just lying here, in the wilderness! It looks old, mind - very old. How did such a thing come to be here? It should be in Rivendell, in Elrond's vault."

"An old stone shack with walls protected by magic, and now an Elvish harp made of mithril? Gandalf, what is going on here?" asked Boromir in annoyance. "This matter grows ever more mysterious, and I do not like it. We do not have days and weeks to spare to solve this matter. We must not linger!"

"Patience, Boromir. I understand your concern. We all do. But we may be closer to an answer than you think. It is as you say. This place has a ward placed up it, a song in an ancient tongue that encourages all who try to pass the walls to turn back. Why? Because he who cast it does not want to be found. There is an Elvish harp, verily one of the treasures of this world -its survival being a wonder in itself- protected by the ward, to keep that precious thing safe whilst its owner is away a while. Now, do you recall of whom we were speaking but a few days ago? Someone who is in exile, or, in other words, who *does not want to be found*."

"Gandalf, you cannot mean-", began Frodo, but the wizard spoke again.

"Yes, Frodo Baggins, I do. Add the evidence here to the tales I have heard up and down Middle-earth over the years, and my conversations with Elrond, and it points to only one thing - the last son of Feanor still lives. What is more, he wanders the land nigh to this very spot, and will return ere nightfall."

"But what should we do, Gandalf, when he does come back?" asked Pippin, a hint of worry and even fear in his voice.

"We should greet him with courtesy, Peregrin Took, as you should any great lord. But be on your guard. There is no way of knowing exactly how he will react when he returns and finds us here, in his very hall as it were."

"I can scarely believe it," said Aragorn, as suprised as any by this sudden revelation, "but let us compose ourselves. Let us search outside for any other sign of his passing. I think it would be better if we were outside, when he returns. We must leave the harp as we found it. But we must count ourselves lucky. We have laid eyes on an object that comes from the Blessed Realm. Few mortal eyes have seen aught that came from over Belegaer, the Great Sea."

Aragorn stepped forward and dropped to one knee, and reached for the case, but was suddenly joined by Legolas. He too knelt down, and placed a hand gently on the harp, as if to make a personal connection with the object and to better remember his encounter with it. He then spoke, low so that none but Aragorn could hear him.

"This truly came from over the Sea?"

Aragorn nodded. Legolas was quiet for a moment.

"Maybe I myself will go that way one day. But not yet. I have much to do before that time comes."

Aragorn smiled and quickly covered the harp again, before replacing the straps and returning it to where Samwise had first found it.

"Now then, outside, all of you," spoke Gandalf quickly. "We may not have long."

The company now returned outside, and began to search for other signs of the occupant's presence. However, even the skill of Aragorn could find little apart from what they'd seen inside.

It was Sam that alerted the company to a sudden change in that situation. They had all grouped together to search the grasssy open ground a little way down hill from the stone archway. "Mr Gandalf, sir - the door!"

They turned in unison to discover a figure with long dark hair and a drawn sword framed within the archway, casting a shadow from the campfire that none of them saw being lit. The figure glanced at each member of the company, and then spoke.

"Who are you? How did you find this place? Speak!"

Gandalf considered his words for a moment, and then responded.

"We mean you no harm. We found this place quite by accident. We only sought to find a good spot to camp for the night, before continuing on the morrow."

"And where might you be bound? Travellers in this land are few, and you are late in the year to be abroad. What strange company you keep. Two men, a dwarf, an Silvan Elf and, of all things, four halflings! You would be wise to explain yourselves."

"We are bound for the other side of the Misty Mountains, and then southwards."

"Why, that could be anywhere! I'll need a better answer than that, grey beard!"

The figure pointed his sword square at Gandalf as he spoke, but it was plain to the company that the sword was shaking in his hand. There was a quiver too in his voice, as if he himself did not believe his words carried any weight or threat. Gandalf held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

"We mean you no harm," Gandalf repeated, calmly and slowly. "You have no enemies here. We are only here in this place by chance. We did not expect to see anyone else out here in the wilderness. You have our word."

"So you say! And what about these others? Do they not speak? What say you, silent ones?," the figure in the doorway demanded, looking at each of them in turn.

Aragorn spoke first. "It is as he said. I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Boromir of Gondor. Legolas, who as you said is a Silvan Elf of the Woodland Realm. Here is Gimli, son of Gloin, of Erebor. And the hobbits, Frodo, Samwise, Meriadoc and Peregrin." 

"Hobbits?"

"Yes, that is what they call themselves. Halfling is...not a polite term."

"Very well. But you still have not told me why such a strange company as yourselves are abroad. I have never seen such a group before. What is your errand?" The figure had held each of them in his gaze for a moment as Aragorn named them. He seemed to be composing himself but was still on edge.

After a short pause, Gandalf spoke again. "Our task is one of the utmost secrecy. If it is accomplished, it will strike a mortal blow to the Enemy himself, and his very power will be removed, and he will never trouble this world again."

The figure mulled over Gandalf's words. "The Enemy? You move against Sauron...with nine?"

"We do," replied the wizard. "It was decided by a council, held but few weeks ago. Elves, Dwarves, Men and Hobbits all agreed that this thing should be done. Our number must be few, as to stay hidden from the Enemy's gaze. "Had I a host of Elves in armour of the Elder Days, it would avail little, save to arouse the power of Mordor." So said Elrond, who called the council."

The figure stepped forward suddenly, lowering his sword. They could see him more clearly now. He was tall, and fair of face, but upon that face were many lines, more than would normally be seen on one of the Fair Folk. Those line were brought about by sadness and regret, enough to fill a mortal life many times over, and pain inflicted by the Oath over countless years. He had been burned in more ways than one .The hobbits were taken aback, for they had seen many Elves in Rivendell - some merry, some serious - but none like him. He had an air of sorrow about him. Here was one who longed for forgiveness, but did not believe he would ever deserve it. His past cast a long shadow over his demeanor, one he foresaw no escape from, despite many centuries of running. The light of the Blessed Realm could no longer be seen in his pale sad eyes.

"Elrond, did you say? Earendil's son? He...he is well?" 

The wizard smiled. "Indeed so. I know him well. I have been friends with him for a very long time. He passes though this land now and again, searching for one that he misses. One who was a father to him, once upon a time. Maglor Feanorion."

At this, the Elf, for Elf he was, bowed his head and sighed. He placed a hand upon his breast.

"It seems I am found at last. Maglor am I, Feanor's son, of the house of Finwe. But also Maglor the kinslayer, Maglor the cursed, and Maglor the burned." He lifted his hands to reveal his scarred palms, which made Pippin wince. "I have wandered this Middle-earth in exile, for a swift death for my sins I do not deserve. But to what end will you put me, now you have found me?"

"Well met at last, Maglor. I am Gandalf. The names of my friends you already know. And we will not be putting you to any end. As I said, it is mere chance that caused our paths to cross. Elrond himself said that we would meet friends upon the road, but none of us ever expected to meet you."

The beginnings of a smile crept across Maglor's face. "Did he so? He is much younger than I am, but he is far wiser than I will ever be." He looked around this strange group in front of him, and saw no threat. He took another deep breath. "Well, if Elrond has chosen you himself, then he trusts you, that much is plain. I will trust in Elrond's choice. Now," and he hesitated for a moment, "would you all come and share my evening meal with me? It is late in the day, and, well, it has been a while since I had any guests at all. I caught a small deer earlier. It is already within." "You have our thanks, Maglor" said Aragorn. "Come, my friends. Maglor is our host, but let us help him and make preparations inside." 

Aragorn led the others inside the walls once more, which left only Maglor and Gandalf outside. The wizard was about to follow them in, when Maglor stopped him. "Gandalf, a moment, if you please."

"Certainly" replied the wizard cordially. "What can I do for you?"

"You have not been clear on several points. I did not want to ask you in front of the rest of the group. But there are two things I must know."

"Of course. What would you ask?"

"Firstly," and Maglor lowered his voice, "what is the...hobbit...carrying? Frodo, was it? I can feel the ill will radiating from him. Well, not him, but something upon his person. It almost feels like it is calling to me. Some artifact of great power it must be. But do not worry. I no longer have the strength to try and claim any such thing for myself. I have had more than enough of hunting for...artifacts." Maglor sighed.

"We do not have the time to tell you the full tale," replied Gandalf. "But it is as you say. The Enemy would send his full force upon us, if he knew we had this thing. He searches for it ceaselessly. It is the one thing he lacks, before claiming this whole world for himself. That is why we must destroy it."

"I see" said Maglor, a look of concern on his face. "My second question. Who exactly are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"The others are as they appear. An Elf, a dwarf, men, hobbits. But you are not any of those. You look like an old man, but...there is more to you than meets the eye. You have a power the others do not. I feel it, but it is hidden deep."

Gandalf nodded. "The eyes of the Noldor see far. Look closely, Maglor. Beyond the physical. You will have the answer you seek."

Maglor did as Gandalf said, and bent all his thought upon him for a moment. His eyes widened, as his mind was filled not with the image of an old man with cloak and staff, but a being of pure light. The vision faded, and there again was Gandalf, smiling.

"You are-"

"Yes."

"And you came from-"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"To counter the threat of Sauron. To help the free peoples see the threat, and put their differences aside, and defend themselves, so that they may live in peace."

"Do they know you have found me?"

"No. I have no way of talking to them. I was sent here with this task, and I must carry it out. Once it is done, if it can be done, I will return. But not before."

Maglor was silent for a moment, taking in all that he had just learned. "I understand, Gandalf. Keep IT secret, and keep them safe."

"I will do all I can. In the mean time, I daresay our evening meal will be ready in a short while. Come, my friend. I daresay my companions have many questions to ask you, and it is not wise to face interrogation on an empty stomach." He laughed at the look of concern on Maglor's face, and the pair went inside.

The rest of the evening was the most pleasant Maglor had spent for years beyond count. He learned more of his unexpected guests, and how they came to be journeying together. He learned that Aragorn had been fostered by Elrond, just as Maglor himself had fostered Elrond. "Then Aragorn is his grandson, in a strange way" observed Sam. Merry and Pippin were amazed to discover that Maglor had some knowledge of the Shire, having once walked the entire length of the Brandywine, from the coast all the way to its source at Lake Evendim, that the Elves call Nenuial. "How was it that no hobbit saw you? I would have thought one of the Big Folk would be easy to spot," remarked Pippin. Maglor would only say that he was very good and keeping out of sight, but did admit to making use of song-wards in order to keep away any who might stumble upon his camp.

Aragorn was also interested in his visit to the lake, asking him if he had visited Annuminas whilst in the area. "I wandered the ruins of that city," said Maglor. "It is a sad and quiet place now, though must have been great at its height." "When Sauron is no more, the North-kingdom will be restored," declared Aragorn. "One day."

It was late when they finally lay down to sleep. Maglor insisted on taking the watch, since his companions still had a long journey ahead of them. As way of thanks, he brought out his harp, and sang to them of the Undying Land. The music swept them up, just as the song of the Dwarves had done to Bilbo many years ago. As sleep took them, there came to them a vision of bells ringing in a shining city upon a lush green hill.

Maglor waited until those in his company were asleep, the carefully packed away his harp and walked outside to look at the stars. Legolas joined him shortly after, since Elves do not require as much sleep as mortals do. Maglor acknowledged him as he came to stand next to him. "It is a clear night. As it was last night."

"And the night before that. There have been clear skies here for a week now. In the middle of winter." Maglor paused, thinking. "It makes me uneasy. It is the will of the Enemy. Your errand may not be as secret as you think. Take great care as you travel southward. Watch out for the birds."

"Birds?" asked Legolas.

"Flocks of birds. Crebain, up from Dunland in the south. They've been flying around here for the last few days, almost as if they were on patrol. Watch out for them."

"I will be sure to tell the others. Thank you." The spent what was left of the night in silence, watching the passage of the stars. As the sun rose, Legolas returned to the path above their camp to check for any signs that anyone had passed by. They had not, so he returned to find Maglor starting a fire to prepare for breakfast.

The company woke refreshed, and ready to continue their journey. Maglor wished them a good morning, and they broke their fast with him before getting their packs and gear together for the road ahead. He generously allowed them to replenish their supplies from his own personal stores, stating that hunting and foraging for more food would not be a problem. "After all, I have had enough practice over the years." They now assembled outside the ruins in which they had slept, on the spot where they had first spotted him the night before.

"Well, I certainly did not plan on having guests last night, said Maglor. They heard the hints of laughter in his voice, and than in itself put a smile on the faces of those who stood before him. They knew he had suffered much in his long life. "Your company last night changed my thoughts on many things, and it has eased my heart more than I can. I thank you."

"You are more than welcome," replied Gandalf. "This was more than a mere chance-meeting. Some things are meant to happen. We were meant to meet you here, Maglor. I am certain of that."

"I think you speak truly, Gandalf. Now, I wish you well on the road ahead. Take care of each other. Legolas, tell the others what I told you last night. Keep to cover as much as you can. It will slow your passage, but it may keep you hidden from unfriendly eyes."

"We will" said Aragorn, with a nod of the head to their host.

Gandalf then spoke again. 

“Maglor, may I now give you advice? I do believe you have been wandering in sorrow for long enough. You have spent an Age and more atoning for your actions. Whilst I do not have the ultimate authority of the Valar, for myself at least, and for those here with me, I hold you to be forgiven. Go to Imladris, Maglor. Go to Elrond. He has been waiting for you there for a long time. You have earned you forgiveness. You have earned a rest now from your wanderings, and your are exiled no longer.”

Maglor stood there, stunned. “You would truly forgive me, Gandalf?”

“I would. As would all who stand here before you.”

“Then,” replied the Elf slowly, “perhaps the time has come at last. I would very like to see Elrond again.”

“Then go to him, Maglor. Waste no more time punishing yourself over ancient history, and send Elrond our regards. I hope that one day, we will meet again in his house, and we will have many more tales to tell.”

“I wish for that too. Fare well to you all. The blessings of the Noldor, such as they are, go with you.”

They turned now, and looking back to wave in parting at the last son of Feanor, resumed their journey. Bill the Pony was with them, led as ever by Sam. Maglor waited until they were lost from  
sight, and remained silent for a while. He returned to the ruins he had called home, and began to tidy his few belongings away for the last time. His thoughts turned to the north, and the Last Homely House, where dwelt his foster-son, waiting.

\- - - - -

Several weeks later, not long after the sun had risen over the valley of Rivendell, and Elrond stood upon his doorstep to breathe in the crisp morning air, he was alarmed to the captain of the border guards riding towards him in haste. He rushed down to meet him as the horse pulled up in front of him suddenly. The guard swiftly dismounted, and caught his breath before speaking.

“My Lord...there is a strange visitor asking for permission to enter the valley. He has reported his name, but...it cannot be so. I rode to the house as quickly as may be, for this seems a matter of vital importance, and you would want to hear of it at once.”

“Who is it, captain? Who has come to Rivendell?”

“He claims to be Maglor, my Lord. Maglor Feanorion.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first even long fan fic. I’m very proud of it. Please let me know what you think :-)


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